NEVER READ FANFICTION TO HOBBITS!
by DARN i lost my ink pen
Summary: The Fellowship is trying to settle down for some quality time together when they are interrupted by the arrival of an evil fanfiction. Told from each character's point of view, it contains heavy sarcasm, popcorn, nude elves, and grumpy OCs. Enjoy!
1. Pippin's POV

Hello there. Just a fair warning, this is quite unlike anything I've written before. The grammar is disjointed, as are the OOC pawn's thoughts. *evil chuckle* At first it's all happiness and rainbows, but do not fear, there will be horrors upon horrors for the Fellowship.

This is the ultimate Mary-Sue within a Mary-Sue. As the Fellowship is reading an MS fanfiction, they themselves are part of a twisted parody. Wonder how long it will take my original character (Jas) to figure out she's a Mary-Sue?

Warning: Pippin's chapter, and therefore an overload of extreme hyperness.

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NEVER READ FANFICTION TO HOBBITS!

**PIPPIN'S POV.**

_Time: Post-ROTK Setting: Rivendell_

"I've got it! I've got the popcorn!" Merry yells, running into the library. My best friend and PIC (partner-in-crime) believes in never coming unprepared. Which is obviously the reason we just spent three freakin' hours popping the darn stuff. It has to be the reason. Because if it isn't, I'm going to kill him.

And then steal all of his pipeweed.

He rushes into where Aragorn, Arwen, Gimli, Legolas, Elrohir, Eowyn, Faramir, and Sam are all sitting. It's part of our 'Let's get together and bug each other to death' ritual. Hope this one doesn't end in a free-for-all.

Yup. You heard me.

Got pretty messy, too.

Merry has to swerve to avoid crashing into Elladan who is entering also. Of course, me being the 'Fool of a Took' that I am, I just HAVE to trip over my cloak right at that moment. I collide with Merry (and his popcorn), who promptly falls into Elladan. Are you sensing a pattern here? The three of us roll into the wall like a misshapen snowball.

Ow.

I'm under Elladan- at least I think I am. It takes us a good few minutes to discover which arms and legs belong to whom.

Did I mention OUCH? I'm pretty sure I did.

Come on, stop laughing. It wasn't that funny.

Tell that to Arwen and Eowyn. No, seriously, tell them. The fact the neither of them hold any grudges about the Aragorn thing is great. But now they up and form a secret pact to always laugh at me. Or hobbits in general. Or maybe the entire male species. Does that include Elves and Dwarves? I'm not sure.

I even think they started a secret handshake, too...Scary.

At least I'm lucky. Clumsy, but lucky. Actually, I like to think its 'accident prone'. How else do you think I survived in the War? My _height_? Well that helped but-

I'm babbling aren't I?

Thought so.

Usually this luck decides to show up right when I don't need it, so when it actually COMES IN HANDY I feel like writing a poem or maybe doing an interpretive dance.

Yeah...I wouldn't want to see me doing one of those either.

Point being, my luck actually helps here because Elladan gets completely splattered with sticky popcorn butter. And I don't. Hah. Grimacing, he wipes a gob of it off his face. I can imagine what he's thinking: Eeew.

"What's the matter brother? Can't you at least save some for the rest of us?" Elrohir must have a death wish. Elladan chucks a clump of grease at him. I have to admit, the elf's got good aim. Not as good as a hobbit's...but still, not bad for an Elf. Don't tell him I said that, or he'll tell you about the time he tried to teach me archery. Remember what I said about grudges? I swear he still holds one against me for shooting him in the butt. Well, I AM accident prone.

Unfortunately for Elladan, Elrohir's got good ducking instincts and the popcorn butter flies right by. Whee. Splat. Right on Elrond's nice shiny walls. I hope he doesn't mind. I can see him returning from the Gray Havens just to give us that LOOK for getting grease on his walls. Elrohir's been practicing the LOOK. He doesn't have it down as well as his dad. All he ends up doing is looking like he ate a bad stew. Maybe one that Eowyn made, I hear she's not the greatest cook. Which sucks for Faramir. Honestly, can you imagine living with someone who can't cook?

I can and it scares me. Like, we're talking nightmares here.

Speaking of Faramir, right now he's restraining Elladan from throwing anymore butter. "Peace, Elladan, one miss and you will have us all with hair like Aragorn." Way to insult His Reluctant Highness, Faramir. Actually, he probably could throw Faramir in jail or something, being King of Gondor and all.

"Hey! I washed it today!" No way did I snort at that. Nu-uh. Nope.

"And immediately engaged in an intensive training session, followed by a mud-fight, of all things." Arwen gently reminds her husband. They're so sweet.

Elrohir giggles. A very un-perfect-immortal-Elf-warrior giggle. "It wasn't his fault, about the mud-fight. Elladan was throwing some at me, and it missed and hit Aragorn." Another giggle.

"You seem to have a knack for throwing things at your brother and missing." I smirk at Elladan. I'm also bouncing up and down on a side table, trying to juggle some pears. But you didn't need to know that, I guess.

Gimli clears his throat. Probably because he needs to, but it might have something to do with the huge amount of butter Elladan's wielding. Yikes. "Are we going to watch the movie or not?"

'The movie', as well as the 'television (or TV)' was a gift from Gandalf. Before he left, he said it was so that we'd always remember our journeys. Yeah, like I'm going to forget a talking tree. Riiiight.

Don't ask me how it works, because frankly, none of us have any idea. Gandalf set it up, and, with a dab of magic here and there- and by 'dab' I mean flashes of blue and green light that scared the socks off Eowyn the first time she saw it- we now have a walking, talking metal box.

Okay, so it doesn't really walk. But I think it's learning. It seems really smart.

Did you know that if you push a button on the mini TV (I think Merry calls it the remote, but I'm not sure) the metal box will change color in the middle? And I don't mean green to red, I'm talking Isengard to Rivendell here. Not that I'm comparing Rivendell to red, that is...except that they both start with 'R', and they both...uh, they both...what else do they have in common, Merry?

"They're both in the movie, of course! Now let's watch it!" Even though I don't quite understand, I don't say anything as Merry hands around what's left of the popcorn and clicks on the TV. Aragorn's frowning at his portion. He's probably thinking that Merry gave him a slightly smaller handful. Not by much. Maybe a couple of ounces. Hmm, wonder if there's any other snacks left in the kitchen? Nope, I think we ate them all. Except the lembas.

The beginning credits start to appear.

"Gandalf did a really good job with thith movie, didnth he?" I comment around a mouthful of popcorn. Too much salt, but it works.

"Yes, I especially like his portrayal of Gondor," agrees Aragorn. "At least you don't have to watch your relatives go nuts." Faramir grumbles. Is it just me or are his hands balling into fists? Yup, it's just me.

"I like the Shire, and all the hobbits, and Mr. Frodo, and Rosie," Sam states. I'll bet you ten apples he's thinking of his wife right now. Can't blame him, she IS a good looker. Don't tell him I told you that, or he'll go into his over-protective mode that was usually reserved for Frodo.

"Yes, we all know you like Rosie!" My PIC winks. I don't know why the heck Sam's blushing; I mean, it's not as if they're not married. But it proves one thing.

He's thinking about her. Pay up.

I'll also bet it Sam's fault the popcorn's so salty.

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So there you go! Please review as I have had a lot of people read this chapter and not express any sort of opinion on it. Thanks!


	2. Aragorn's POV

This chapter is somewhat short, but it's funny, and I'll probably get the next one up either today or tomorrow. After that, you might have a longer break because I'm waiting on the fourth chapter's stamp of approval from Hasufel. 

Dark Morwen 863: Yay! With this form of mind-control I can now rule the world! :D Glad you loved it.

Lady Ambreanna: Wow, all in capitals! Somebody's happy. ;) I've missed me, too.

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**ARAGORN'S POV.**

Blast. Damn and blast. Damn and bloody well blast.

Don't tell Arwen I said that, okay?

Holy Valar, is it just me, or do elves love to pick fights?

First, Legolas is ribbing Gimli when the movie gets to that line, 'Three were given to the Elves, _immortal, wisest, and fairest._" Then the dwarf has to go and rile up all the elves in the room by saying that they're nothing but 'jumped-up pretties with perfect hair.' Yeah, great job Gimli. I wonder how long an elf goes before committing homicide?

And when Merry turns to Legolas and asks him how he does keep his hair so perfect, I swear I saw that elf toss his head and SMIRK at me. There is nothing wrong with my hair.

Nothing. You hear that?

And now Legolas is yelling at me for something I did at the Council of Elrond. Honestly, that was two years ago.

Hate elves. Hate, hate, hate.

Except for you, Arwen, of course.

Yes, I was raised among them. I had a traumatizing childhood. Which is why I plan on banning any Elvish visitors from Minas Tirith; if they want a guinea pig to try out their new sparring moves or practical jokes, they'll have to find another impressionable kid. Besides, I outrank most of them now. Hah.

Alright, so maybe they've got me beat on the living forever bit.

"HAVO DAD, LEGOLAS?" the elf's screeching, waving his arms about wildly. "We're at the meeting that will determine the fate of Middle-Earth and you tell me to SIT DOWN?!"

Can't we just use the fast-forward option to get past Elrond's Council?

Oh, nevermind; Merry (the self-designated protector of the remote) is in the kitchen, trying to find some sort of food that's not lembas, lembas-flavored, or made with extract of lembas. He's going to be there a while.

And I think Legolas is hyperventilating.

I repeat: Blast. How do I get out of this one?

Aaah. Pippin. Hobbits are always good distractions.

"Pippin! Are you alright?" Legolas has the attention span of a moth.

Arwen's glaring at me. Could have something to do with the fact that I kicked the leg of Pippin's chair out from under it. I bet he's still wondering how, one minute he's glued to the television screen, and the next his head is crammed inside his popcorn bucket.

Sam takes a hold of the bucket, and Legolas gets a firm grip on Pippin's suspenders. "Three, two, one, PULL!" They yank their respective holds, but nothing happens. They try again. And again.

Suppose I kicked his chair harder than I thought. Oh well, Gimli and Eowyn have gone to help, he'll be out in no time.

Still...maybe I should apologize.

Nah.

Rangers never apologize. They just gut you and mutter Elvish burial chants later.

* * *

Short chapter; but once the Evil Book of Fanfiction is found and read, the chapters increase greatly in size. Thanks! Like the additions?

Actually, the 'attention span of a moth' part is a quote from a friend...in reference to me. :D

But anyway, did you know that that little review button is a great multitasker? It can submit reviews, add author/story alerts, add author/story favorites, add to C2 archives, and report abuse! Um...not the last one. The only abuse that will be doled out will be to J.R.R.Tolkien's poor characters!


	3. Elrohir's POV

I still haven't heard from my Beta-reader yet so the next chapter might not get posted for a while. :( Guess that means that there are some serious changes taking place lol! If you check out my profile you'll see that I'm planning a lot of stories; all but one of them are being written. But they're developing in bits and pieces, so I don't feel comfortable with posting the first chapters of them until I've gotten a good ending for that chapter or at least started the next. Right now Songs Without Words is booming. But me no post yet. :D

Lady Ambreanna: Yes, somehow the line 'except for you, Arwen, of course' right after 'hate, hate, hate' disappeared. Oh well; and as for the banning Elves, he actually said he would ban Elvish visitors, so if you want to be picky one could say that Arwen technically isn't a visitor, she would live there. :) Hope you liked the rest of the chapter!

the-dolphins-way: Nice name! Well, I'm definately glad that you've got an account now because you can review! Yay! Thanks. :)

that vibrating piece of cheese: Okay, I wanna know. Where did you get the inspiration for this pen-name? That is so funny. Will try. :)

Hello Anyone There: cough splutter choke cough cough Can't! Breathe! Huggleing! Too! Tight! lol No, I won't, no worries. Um...just a lot of family problems and computer problems and stuff. :( But I'm BAAACCK!! :D

_And thanks to those of you who took the multitasking button to heart. (aka adding this story to a favorites list, story alert, author alert, author favorites.) ;)_

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**ELROHIR'S POV.**

Arwen's ssshing us again.

"Ssssh!"

Eru, all I said was-

"Ssssssh!" Ouch.

Aragorn's shrinking into his seat, muttering something like, "I can face orcs, the Nazgul, and even the Dark Lord through the palantir, but my own wife can-" Can what? Scare the crap out of him? Make him take a bath? What?

"SSSSSSSSHHH!"

Dead silence. Everyone's paying attention to the movie as if their lives depend upon it. Knowing my sister, they probably do. Which is not to say that we could probably take her if we all stuck together; ten warriors against Arwen, and SOMEBODY'S gotta bring her down. Probably.

Not if she gets that scary I'm-a-Queen-so-don't-mess-with-me expression again, though. I literally saw Glorfindel run away the first time she used it, which was her wedding day.

Ah, good times. Heroic hobbits, enchanting elf maidens, ferocious food fights…

Oh yes. That's why my sister got so mad at Glorfindel. He got drunk and danced with everybody- including Adar and Aragorn. Bloke didn't seem too upset, though; hmm, maybe I should tell Arwen. That was a year ago, though, and they don't look like their having any 'problems' so maybe I shouldn't…

Darn, I tuned out again. Looks like there's another all-out brawl coming. Eowyn's suggesting that she go make some more popcorn. Thank you, Eowyn.

Everybody's taking this chance to stretch their legs. Arwen's joining her; Gimli, Elladan, and Sam are following her to see if they can steal some extra popcorn; Faramir, Merry, Pippin, and I are going to steal the popcorn Gimli, Sam and my brother stole. Aragorn and Legolas are headed outside- in different directions.

Oh yes, Pippin's been unstuck from his popcorn bucket, by the way.

Fifteen minutes later, we're all back together. Hah. Elladan's looking put out because his popcorn disappeared. I think I'll crunch mine (or his, depending on how you look at it) even louder. He noticed. Hee.

Wait a minute.

"What in the name of the Valar is that?!" I'm gaping at a book, lying in front of the television. It's leather bound, with pink hearts and bloody swords sewn on to it. Eugh. Someone should take a knife to that thing. A big knife.

"Who knows," Merry shrugs. "HEY! Where's the remote?"

Ah. The remote. The device Gandalf left us to control the TV. Nope, no clue.

Merry made us look for it anyway, though. And after half-an-hour, all we discovered was Legolas is allergic to dust bunnies, Sam doesn't particularly like being stuffed in a trash can, and Gimli's a bit too handy with his axe. Now I have to sit on the floor.

Or my sister's lap.

Nope, floor it is.

Is that grease by my hand?

Elladan's picked up the book; Legolas is giving it a strange look. At least I'm pretty sure he's staring at the book, not my twin. But I'd understand either.

"It looks evil." Presenting Legolas: our new forecaster of Doom.

Gimli merely laughs and claps him on the back, "You're just paranoid laddie. It's a book, what harm can it do?"

Forget that Legolas is about 3000 years old, sure.

"Let's see what this is all about." Elladan opens the book.

_My Story_

_by _WarriorgrlxluvsxLeggolas

_And this is the story of how I, Cryseina, met and fell in love with Leggolas Greenleaf._

Stop. Go back. Re-read. Please, Valar, tell me she's not talking about my best friend.

"How descriptive." Gimli grunts.

"Hey look," Elladan points at the page. "She even spelled Legolas' name wrong!"

I'll bet the Valar are laughing their royal heads off at me right now. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I wonder how Legolas feels. He looks rather sick. No, you're right. I don't want to know how he feels.

Nervously, I stand up and begin pacing. Back...and forth...back...and forth. It's a habit of mine, I stress, then I pace, then I explode. Or just go on a wild, three-month orc hunt-fest.

And forget to bring food.

I'm not very organized.

_Okay, I'd better tell you what I look like before you think I'm an ogre (giggle giggle)_

"Isn't she?" Merry asks incredulously.

Giggle giggle? As Boromir would say: What new bloody devilry is this?

Okay, I added the 'bloody'.

"Will you stop interrupting?" Eowyn glowers at the hobbit. "But it's fun," he complains.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

_I have long black hair. But it's not really black, it's more of a dark, dark blue. Like the midnight sky. And my eyes sparkle and shine like the stars in the midnight sky. (Doesn't that sound soooo cool? I made it up myslef.) No, I don't look like Arwen. Who wants to look like a wrinkled, stringy-haired elf anyway? But I'M so pretty Leggolas could never say 'no' to me- nobody could!_

"I don't doubt it, little bit- I mean, wonderful girl." Arwen growls. Aragorn looks at her, shocked.

Somebody better hold my sister back or she won't be responsible for her actions. Can't say I'd blame her if she decided to maul this creepy girl to death. Hell, I'd be handing her my dagger just for sentimental reasons.

"I don't like the directhon this ith going" Come a muffled voice from under the feather pillow a certain blond elf's hugging to his face. Faramir and Pippin exchange decidedly mischevious glances. They're up to something.

This should be good.

* * *

Added a little, changed a little, made it a little better.

Multitasker. ;)


	4. Merry's POV

**I would like for EVERYBODY to read the following response to this flame. It really is quite ridiculous and, after reading this, I hope you go back to read the flame and get as good a laugh out of it as I did. Thanks! :D **

**This is my reply to the pansy who hasn't got a life other than make a fool of himself (not that I think he'll actually read it):**

Flame Rising**:** Did you know that you misspelled 'Things That A Turd Out Of My Ass Could Have Writer Better?' Shouldn't it be _'Written_ Better'? Or at the very least, 'Could Write Better'? I have to say, your flame was less than helpful. The only time I have misspelled anything in this story is in the Mary-Sue's fanfiction (which, since you reviewed chapter 1, I'd guess you have not read yet). So if you HAVE found any spelling mistakes, please do not leave this ignorant, AP English failure in the dark. Please give to me the talent your left testicle obviously possess (and I'm pretty sure that that is the only place you possess talent)! Oh yes, that was called: SARCASM. And while I appreciate your kind gesture of interpreting your own email, I am perfectly comfortable with multi-syllable words. And as for the ignoring grammar part, it is my WRITING STYLE. First person thoughts are disjointed, random, and (in Pippin's case especially) rather hyper. Just ask Lady Ambreanna, who trust me, gives very HELPFUL reviews AND flames. She is the best. My Beta, Hasufel, has said that she enjoys this story very much; and if NRFTH sucks donkey balls, then why have so many well-educated people reviewed, favorited, ect...?? Lastly, I write for my own enjoyment. So please, take good care of that testicle since it is so precious to makind's wellbeing. Goodbye; and since I do not wish to appear rude, thank you for that oh-so-coveted spot. It made my day.

**Isn't that hilarious? The moron completely set himself up with that C2 title misspelling. But I'm glad you all have stuck with me. Now, on the worthwhile reviews!!**

Lady Ambreanna: Haha, no you're not over analyzing. That's exactly the problem Elrohir was struggling with; although, we may never know if Legolas was remember a prank. That would make an excellent short story. lol Thanks a lot! :D

Dark Morwen 863: I'm afraid that when I mentioned Legolas' upcoming chapter, I gave the impression that it was next. Sorry! It's either #5 or #6. But I hope Merry's is satisfactory. Thank you. :)

Telcontar Rulz: Yesss, yesss we must torture the elfses, mustn't we? Make them scream, we must. Yesss, my precioussss. Thanks! :)

the-dolphins-way: Yes, that's one of my favorite parts, but it seems not too many people have picked up on it. Thanks, and you're welcome! ;)

Hello Anyone There: Well...if you remember that three-way you suggested? That's still in there. lol He might. That gave me a great idea: Legolas trying to 'end it all'!! Haha, and sorry for the long wait, mellon nin. Oh, no I haven't read Terry Pratchett- I just like aglets. Is he good? :D

We stand victorious: Ah, I should try that sometime. angles head to side, opens mouth, waits for inspiration...fly buzzes into open mouth Thanks, and I will read it, if you recommend it it must be good! :)

**I think that's everyone. And thanks SOOO much for those of you who added my story to your various alerts, favorites, ect... Virtual cookies for all! **

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**MERRY'S POV.**

My best friend in the whole of Middle-Earth has got to be Peregrin Took. But sometimes he doesn't have any idea what's going on. Course, I don't usually either, but I'm more likely to catch on.

Still, nobody can say that me and Pip can't pull a good prank. There was the time when we scared the wits out of Ted Sandyman by hiding under the bridge and used fishing hooks to pull his pants down. Not that he had many wits to begin with. Hobbit couldn't tell the difference between broiled mushrooms and stewed toadstools, which lead to several severe stomach aches, I can assure you.

Sorry, nostalgic moment there.

Pippin stands up and walks over to the couch, swaying his hips. It's hilarious. I'll bet Legolas is wondering why Eowyn's giggling. The hobbit stops and plays with a lock of his thick hair. Ugh, he looks like Hattie Chub primping after she's had her monthly bath. "Oh, how I wish my prince would save me from this utter boredom. I don't even have my other dresses! What will he think of me?"

Nice girly voice, Pip.

Faramir strides over to my buddy, kneels down, and spreads his arms wide. Looks darned ridiculous, since Pippin's about half his size even after the Ent draught. "I think no less of thee, sweet maiden, as thy beauty far outshines thy lack of extra gowns. Lo! I shall sweep thee off thy feet and carry thee into the mercantile, so that thou might look radiant for me, Leg-golas of Mirkwood!" And the Gondorian proceeds to pick up the (very un-featherweight, BELIEVE me) hobbit and carry him into the kitchen, all the while heralded by peals of laughter.

High-pitched squeals and coy statements are coming from the kitchen: "Oh LEG-GOLAS! Oh, I couldn't possibly! You WICKED elf! Oh, oh DEAR!" Too bad Legolas is missing all of this.

_(A/N: Misspelled words are the fault of WarriorgrlxluvsxLeggolas' influence. Totally out of my contrul.)_

"Ha ha ha, Faramir has you pegged out, all right!" Eowyn's laughing harder than even I've ever seen her.

Legolas grumbles into his pillow. It sounds like "Sthupid hobbigh...neber shoug hab rethued them from Ithsengarg..." Maybe it's a form of Elvish? Sounds rather queer if you ask me.

"You- really- ought to see- this- Legolas" Aragorn gasps. "Or- should I- say _Leg_-golas?"

Arwen's not saying anything, she's laughing so hard.

Elladan and Elrohir lean on each other, grasping their respective ribs.

Legolas finally extracts his head from the cushion. His eyes are bug-

Ow. OwowowowowowowOW.

I'm gonna kill that hobbit. As soon as I get my breath back, that is.

You really want to know? Okay.

Sam here was laughing so hard that he started to slip off his chair...and land on poor unsuspecting me. I was trying to stop my ribs from aching; the look on Legolas' face was priceless. Although now he's just red from rage, but that's beside the point.

Of course, I was entirely oblivious of my imminent squishing. Yes, squishing. Do you know how much Sam weighs?

I do now.

And of course Gimli has to spill pipeweed all over what's left of my popcorn. Not that I care right now, all I'm trying to do is breathe.

Dimly...through the haze...I hear an ethereal voice calling Pippin and Faramir-

NO I'm not being melodramatic! I really am half-choked.

"Pippin! Faramir! Come out here for a minute, will you!" Legolas calls. He's trying to hide the fact that there are tomatoes paler than him but it's not working. Pippin opens the door, "Did you- uuumph!"

Legolas sits pillowless with more than a hint of a smirk on his face, while I'll bet Pip will be spitting feathers out for the rest of the chapter.

Haha, get it? Throw pillow.

Okay, I guess that was a pretty bad joke.

Faramir halts in the doorway, looking from Pippin to Legolas to the pillow and back again before darting back into the kitchen. The sound of the door locking is unmistakable.

_Real_ brave Gondorian soldier, that one.

Of course, I'm not going to tell you how Legolas grabbed Aragorn's sword and tried to hack down the kitchen door. Or how he ended up chasing Faramir round the room with the sword in one hand and a pillow in the other. Or how Aragorn was chasing him, yelling something about his sword and shaving Legolas' head. Or how Faramir tried to scale the balcony post to get away from the elf who was threatening him with public castration. Or how he almost fell off the railing, and Legolas dropped the sword onto Aragorn's foot. Hilt down, of course. Or we wouldn't have a Prince of Mirkwood anymore.

Nope, I'm not telling you any of that.

* * *

Edited! Hahaha, I heart this ending. And, for those of you who didn't understand the author's note, it's my British humour. Lol Next chapter, either Leggy-darling or the new character!

Remember our mantra? Multitasker...


	5. Legolas' POV

**Alright, so I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that I'm going to France and England with my mom on the 26th, and won't be back for a month. :( The good news is that I have a cat-spirit hiding in my refridgerator. He's my muse, and I call him Kyon-Kyon. ;) Well, I just got this back from the Beta-workshop and I want to know from all my reviewers: is my story starting to differentiate itself? Do you feel that it's too cliche? Is being cliche a good thing since it's a parody? Please tell me what you think. Songs of praise are also welcome. **

**From here on out the chapters will get longer! (And better, in my opinion)**

Hello-Anyone-There: I loved your review so much I put some of it in my story! It was a great idea. Okay, I'll try not to. :sniffs: Really? You'd...you'd fight for me? lol Jas is next, and don't worry, the three-way's still in there! Animal familiar?...I was thinking Hippogriff, what do you think? :D

Telcontar Rulz: Thanks for your support, I did overreact when I saw the flame, but later on decided to leave it in the chapter just because I do believe it's quite funny. I love picking on Faramir, don't you?! ;)

Dark Eco Angel: You're in love with this? You may marry my story if you wish- as long as, in case of eventual divorce, I get the house, the car, about 5-million in alimony, child support for any little ficcys you two spawn...oh yeah, and an ice cream cone. :) Thanks!

Lady Ambreanna: When I mentioned flames, I was in particular thinking of the first message you sent me that was for somebody else. It was helpful, and I kept it in mind, even if it wasn't meant for me! You're welcome, and thanks for being one of the most helpful reviewers ever! Um...I think my three-year-old neighbor takes Flame Rising seriously, but then he also thinks that _Finding Nemo_ characters live in his bathroom. :D Kipling with a Tolkien Twist! I like it. (Wait...that was Kipling right? I'm so confused...) lol

Dark Morwen 863: Here it is! At long last- the Legolas chapter! I hope it's up to snuff! Thank you. Oh, and I've been dying to ask you: where did you get the inspiration for your penname? :)

Nerd-434: The greatest compliment you can give a writer is to tell them that what they write is funny (unless they're an angst/horror/drama-fic author lol). Thank you! :D

the-dolphins-way: Hmm...perhaps we should have Pippin and Faramir get into trouble again, what do you think? Maybe this time with Eowyn? Thanks. :)

...

**LEGOLAS' POV.**

Hindsight is extremely useful. Especially when you have all of eternity to look back on and learn from. That's what's so wonderful about being an elf. All eternity. And the hair. The hair's a big plus. But I was talking about hindsight.

For instance, looking back, maybe I shouldn't have lost it like I did, and gone after Faramir yelling like an insane Nazgul. He keeps giving me strange looks, and won't come within ten feet of me. Guess he still thinks I'm going to carry out my threat of publicly castrating him. Now Aragorn won't let me anywhere near his sword and Gimli's confiscated my bow, arrows, and twin daggers. They've also been muttering something about me not being stable anymore.

Honestly, doesn't fighting in the great War of the Ring count for anything with these people? One instance of temporary insanity and they think you've lost your mind.

I'm not going to tell them about the dagger hidden in my boot. Just in case Faramir gets too comic again. Hah! Beware Legolas, Warrior of the Pillow!

It takes a long time before everybody's back where they should be. Elladan's giving Elrohir dirty looks because he won't take over reading for him. I'm giving Elladan dirty looks because he won't burn the book.

_Ummm…I'm seventeen and I'm really skinny, but I have gorgeus curves! (I make boys get nosebleeds when they see me!) (giggle giggle)_

"Does that mean that, wherever she goes, she's followed by a trail of used tissues?" Aragorn comments.

Nice mental picture. Thanks ever so much, Aragorn.

_Ooooo, and I'm really smart- but my teachers are mean. They give me way too much homework. (sobs) But I can get over that, because I'm a survivor. (smiles bravely)_

"Try surviving with my sword and about fifty orcs to back me up," Eowyn grins. Now that's a mental picture I can live with. "Orcs?" Arwen asks.

"Is she a schizo?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Oooh, now I'm _happy_! Now I'm _sad_. Now I'm _happy_! Now I'm-"

"MERRY!!"

Elrohir resumes pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

He's a bloody fast runner.

_Well, you'll find out more about my great personalitie later on in the story._

"Joy," mumbles Faramir.

Backandforthbackandforthbackandforth. Uh-oh. Elrohir's snapping point is coming up soon.

_But the really important part is how I got to Middle-Earth. It was a normal day-_

"She WHAT?" Elrohir screams. "There's no way in Mordor she's ending up here!" Everybody stares at the elf. He stops flinging his arms around, and goes to huddle in a corner, muttering, "Orcs…must hunt orcs…must…precious…"

And they thought I was crazy.

"Not to sound cynical, but I don't think this is all that Book's going to do to some of us." Now why is Elladan looking at me like that? He continues. "Anyway…"

_It was a normal day. Cryseina had way too much homework and that was making her depressed. All her stupid schoolwork was taking all her time away from all her painting she wanted to do._

Nothing can prepare you for the utter shockwaves that a change in tense sends to your brain. It completely turns you around, and the migraine you had beforehand turns into a full-blown orc army invading your nervous system.

And does she have ANY idea how utterly moronic that last sentence was?

Need pain medication. Badly.

_Ever since her older brother had died Cryseina felt like that was her only link to him. She missed him…so…so much. Ever since she was one years old, he would show her how to capture the beauty of her world on paper. Pain, suffering, anguish, and hate were all controlled by her brush-thing. _

Yes, because angst is just so beautiful. GET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT, GET ME OUT! AAADDDAAAAAAARR!!

I clamp my mouth shut and chew on my thumbnail.

"Even as a baby, she was gifted in all ways. Who would have guessed?" Eowyn gripes.

_Plus, she had just watched the Lord of the Rings- the elf bits at least. Why couldn't she just live there? Life would be so much wonderfuller. _

Gimli twitches, curling and uncurling his fingers around the handle of his battleaxe.

_(WarriorgrlxluvsxLeggolas: actually, pretend arwen doesn't exist yet, okay?)_

"Yet? I don't exist yet?" Arwen complains. "What, do I just pop up in Rivendell mid-story and everybody's like 'Hey! That's Arwen! She just showed up even though she's actually been here for the past _eight hundred years_!'"

Elrohir plonks himself onto her lap again. This time, when she shoves him off, he just gets back on and starts talking to Elladan. "Hey, Arwen doesn't exist, so I guess I can have this chair now!"

"Why you idiotic-"

"Yeah, and maybe I can start using her tiara for a target now without her under it yelling at me!"

"You _what?!_"

"Great idea! Oh, we can start putting that trap door in their bedchamber to good use now!"

Arwen's gone completely white. Well…whiter than usual, that is. "You…what?" She grabs the front of Elladan's shirt collar and yanks him close, speaking softly. He shrinks back and picks the Book up again.

"Uh, hehe, I think we'd…better keep going with this…eh, sis?"

"…"

_Cryseina had to run the the store. Halfway there, she noticed a widdle fwuffy cat and saved it from the meanie squirrels._

"Really?" Pippin looks up, interested. Nobody seems too eager to say anything to the contrary. Arwen's got steam coming out of her ears.

_Suddenly, a car came out of nowhere and hit Cryseina. As if in slow motion, Cryseina turned her head to watch the car slam into her side and throw Cryseina onto the road. Dimly, Cryseina could hear loved ones calling for her before her world spiraled into pain and darkness. _

Merry and Sam cross to opposite sides of the room. Merry stands watching as Sam runs full-tilt at him, squealing in his idea of slow motion, "Oh deeear! A hobbit is about to hit me! Mayyybe I should moooove!" Sam barrels into him, and they both go tumbling to the ground, rolling under the table, and crashing into the fireplace. Lucky for them, we're not using it. A cloud of soot billows up.

After the coughing subsides, Pippin cocks his head to one side. "What's a 'car'? Is it like an oliphaunt?"

_She groaned and opened her eyes. All she could see was black mist floating around. Where was she? Was she dead? Was her short, sweet life cut short? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!_

"Yes!" Eowyn and Arwen shout ecstatically; Gimli shakes his fist in the air; Merry and Pippin do a victory dance, I think I'll join them. We're hopping around and stomping our feet like idiots, but nobody cares because nobody's looking at us...Correction. Everybody's looking at us. Me. And I'm still attempting to dance hobbit-style and failing.

Meaning that Kings, Princesses, and Dignitaries of about five different countries are staring at me while I make a fool out of myself. At least my father's not here. This isn't exactly Mirkwood's proudest moment.

I wish the Valar had granted Elves the privilege of becoming invisible.

To top off this wonderful session, I just found out that she isn't dead, 'because if she is, how does she meet Legolas?'

Thanks a lot Faramir. I'm seriously considering using that last dagger on you right now. Hm, should I ensure that no little Stewards will run around wreaking havoc perhaps? Or just go straight to the heart of the matter?

Apparently he caught my glare and interpreted it correctly, because this time he's locked himself in the broom closet.

The rest of us just kind of stare stupidly at The Book of Fanfiction...I think we're in shock. Life is not fair.

"Noooooo!" Merry lunges for the television, frantically scrabbling at it in an attempt to turn it on. Sam and Gimli haul him off it, kicking and flailing. "Have-turn-on-can't-listen-book-anymore-carrots!"

Carrots?

Aragorn looks at him with a mixed expression of pity and apprehension. Don't worry, Aragorn. Merry's too small to steal your sword. Bugger.

"One down, two to go. Bet you sentry duty it happens in the next two chapters." Elladan whispers to his brother. Great, when I snapped everybody treated me like I was some sort of psycho. When a hobbit goes insane, he just gets bet on!

Did I mention life is not fair?

And I want my weapons back.

* * *

Up next...the controversial introduction of the OC! Sorry if it takes longer than usual to put the next chapter up, as I said, I'll be getting ready to go away. But reviews make my kitty muse happy!


	6. Jas's POV

**Wow, I got another chapter up before my vacation! Hopefully the next one (Elladan, ya'll) will be posted this weekend. It depends on whether or not I finish the Sue's fanfiction re-write and also on my Beta's schedule. She's very busy, so let's all give her a hand for finding time to help me anyway!**

**Kyon-Kyon (my cat muse) has decided to give me another task. If you look, you'll notice the addition of a brand new story! It's definately a Legolas-basher, but I make it up to the poor elf by giving him a nicer character in this story. It's open to requests. Hint, hint. :D**

Hello Anyone There: 'You might want to be a little more careful with making sure each time a new charater speaks it's on a new line, it makes it easier to read.' I'm sorry I don't quite follow you, would you mind explaining? Where, exactly, did you find this trouble? Urg, I can't remember what those horse-bird creatures in Harry Potter are called! But a little baby Hippogriff will do just as nicely :shudders:. Um, Manchester...I don't think so, sorry. But I am going to Stratford-upon-Avon! You can turn green any time you want :) Yes, trust me, there's going to be a lot of references to other books, but only later on when the worlds...oops. :slaps hand over mouth: Thanks so much!

Dark Morwen 863: Little funny coincidence here, but just before I got your review I finished 'The Tale of the Children of Hurin', which expands a bit more on Morwen's story. I was so thrilled to realize that she's your namesake...sort of. :) My Legolas may have a certain depth to him in this story, but read my other story and he's all-out spoiled. And rather dumb. But I enjoy making Legolas realistic...and besides, it feeds every fangirl's fancy, doesn't it? lol Thank you.

Lady Ambreanna: If that happened, Legolas would be quite embarressed, I'm sure! Fortunately, it didn't. Thranduil is planning on making a cameo appearance, though. :) Today must be my day for giving away plotlines in this story! If I didn't love my penname so much, I'd change it to Unicorn or something like that. ;) Thanks but I'm afraid that Kyon-Kyon doesn't really like dogs. He might like chihuahuas, though, we can always try...Thanks! :)

Telcontar Rulz: It IS annoying, you're right. I have a feeling that poor Legolas will be subjected to much Mary-Sueness in the next chapter, when they continue reading the Deadly Book of Fanfiction. :O Thank you! I'm so glad!

pengu713: The fact that you love my writing but hate Cryseina is good! That means I'm doing my job right! You'll find out a lot more about our moronic Mary-Sue in the next update; why don't you like Arwen? Trust me, if I could I would publish this! Thanks. :D

Dark Eco Angel: Okay. I'll take the ice cream cone. Hey, why do you think there aren't as many guys on fanfiction dot net? There are just as many sexy fictional women as there are studmuffin men in the books, movies, ect. And guys appreciate humor, drama, horror as much as the next person, right? Hmm...this mystery we must solve...Thanks! :)

_Jas is the second Mary-Sue to be introduced to this wacky tale. Hopefully, she'll be a bit more bearable, but who knows. ;P_

...

**JAS' POV.**

_Time: At the same time the Fellowship is reading The Evil Book of Fanfiction Place: Virginia_

Jenna Uluviel Cryseina Burrows. At least that's what she calls herself. But I don't believe her.

She claims to be a beautiful, charming, graceful, sweet girl who's talented at everything…and I edited out a few adjectives that are synonymous with '_nice'_. Supposedly, this girl can fence, ride, cook, sew- you know, be the perfect homemaker. She says she's a battle strategist, kindergarten teacher, swimsuit model, computer hacker, everything. Kind of like a Mary-Sue. Exactly like a Mary-Sue. But that's just my not-so-humble opinion.

And computer hack is exactly what she did: to _my_ computer. My fanfiction account, to be precise.

And apparently this girl is planning on taking over Middle-Earth and needs my help. I only have a couple of problems with that: 1. How does she expect to take over a fictional world? 2. Why me? and 3. This girl needs to be in a nut house. Seriously.

Okay, so what if that was three problems; math was never my forte.

By the way, I'm Jasmine Alexis Rider- Jas, for short. And I have short, choppy dark brown hair; an obsession with Cheetos; and a strong abhorrence for my idiotic neighbor, Brad. I live in San Francisco, California, although right now I'm attending university in Virginia. As in, Virginia the REAL WORLD (and _of course_ my little brother Ben tagged along. You wouldn't think fourteen-year-olds could be more annoying than your mid-life crisis psychology professor, but you're dead wrong. Mysteriously, my parents didn't want him to go with them on their second honeymoon, and since I'm his only sibling, it was a toss-up between me and our Aunt Mathilda, whose general opinion of teenage boys is that they are wicked, wayward heathens. Ben chose to stay with me- shocking).

Now, I've read my fair share of fanfiction- I've even written several OC/Legolas myself. But none of them were Mary-Sueish. All of them were believable…I think. So no way in hell am I going to 'help' a psycho (who might very well be a cyber predator, may I remind you) take over J.R.R. Tolkien's fictional world. Uh-uh. No way. Nope.

In fact, I'm not going to get involved in any way.

So how come I find myself in an 1800s style cottage that I never noticed before, where an old woman tells me I have to drink a small potion, go to Middle-Earth, and stop this Cryseina character?

Let me guess, there's a prophecy?

Sorry I asked.

No, there isn't a prophecy (cue hallelujah chorus), but Cryseina is SO smart that apparently she hacked the wrong account. Now that I know all of her devious plans I either have to join her or aid Middle-Earth. How can a criminal 'mastermind' hack the wrong account?! And then this nice little old lady does a few things that convince me magic just might be real. Whoo-hoo.

Why didn't I just check my e-mails instead? Oh yeah, because my research project was overdue. Right.

It seems that there is a portal that links all the worlds. Just like an MS fic. And Cryseina just happened to find this portal. Just like an MS fic. And this portal is...fanfiction. Not like an MS fic.

So, Cryseina is writing a fanfiction that will somehow make it to Middle-Earth, and, while it's being read, the portal will open. And all the Mary-Sues she's created can invade Middle-Earth once it's finished. And she needs my help (well, not _my_ help, whoever she was trying to get in the first place) to co-author this fanfiction. She also wants me to spell-check it for her?

Don't ask me how all this works. I didn't bother to ask for any more particulars, I was too busy hitting my head against a wall.

And don't ask me why this crazy lady knows all about it, either. I don't feel like getting within three miles of her after she...uh, used her magic on me…yeah. Ahem.

But I don't have a choice here, apparently. I either join Cryseina or Ms. You-Gotta-Save-Middle-Earth over there. See, if I choose to ignore both people I apparently will end up dead. And believe me, I don't do so well with death threats. So, Middle-Earth it is.

My new boyfriend's going to flip when he realizes I stood him up tonight.

I'm packing a little suitcase though. I've read enough soppy fanfiction to know that I most likely won't get found for about…oh, I dunno…three decades.

Food: check.

Two water bottles: check.

Chocolate (which doesn't count as food, by the way): check.

Change of clothing: check.

CD player: check. (Don't roll your eyes like that; thirty years is a heck of a long time, you know!) 

CDs: check. 

Toothbrush/toothpaste: check.

And that's only the half of it. Hey, maybe I should bring my Chem textbook; that would certainly last me a while.

Actually, I think I might. Reading about the formation of ethanol might come in handy...

I don't even understand how this is supposed to work. I mean, I drink something that could quite possibly be poison, and POOF! I end up in another dimension?

And, oh, there's one other awesome perk I forgot to mention…I won't remember why I'm there for 24 hours. So if I get caught by orcs, I won't have the opportunity to put my foreign relations training to work and say: "Hey, I'm sorry to inform you, but you can't actually eat me because I'm here to save your world from being invaded by stereotype glamour girls from my world, so I'd appreciate it if you'd please stop drooling on my leg. Thank you."

Did I mention I'm cynical and slightly sarcastic?

Well, here goes.

God, this stuff tastes awful.

…

Wind. Wind is nice, ruffling up my hair. Hmm…a field. That's where I am. How nice.

Wait a minute. I'm supposed to be going on a date right now, in a spiffy restaurant just outside Washington, DC. Not, shall we say, in Middle-Earth. Ha ha, like that would happen!

Unless my boyfriend happens to have a weird, twisted sense of humor that involves transporting me into the middle-of-freakin'-nowhere and leaving me _by myself_ to face a group of men and their trusty bow n' arrows, I shouldn't be too-

Hold up! Arrows?

"What business has a lone traveler in these parts of Imladris?" A man whom I assume is the head honcho around here demands. I'm not loving the attitude. Or the accent. He sounds like there's a bean up his nose.

"Bless you," I say pleasantly. He looks confused. No duh.

"For what, may I ask?" Confused look gone, replaced by crabby I'm-gonna-stick-this-arrow-through-you-in-exactly-three-seconds kinda look. So much for a sense of humor.

"Forgive me, I believe you had sneezed,"

"I did not sneeze."

"It sounded like you sneezed."

"But I didn't."

"But it sounded like you did."

"How could it sound like I did if I didn't?"

"I dunno, but it did!"

"It could not possibly sound like I did if I did not!"

"It did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

"DID!"

He's starting to get slightly red in the face and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Another man interrupts: "Excuse me, my Lord, but there does not seem to be any sense in pursuing this…somewhat childish conversation." Mr. Bean-up-his-nose doesn't seem to like having the word 'childish' put in the same sentence as him. Childish. Yup, that's usually the effect I have on people.

Hee hee, you can see I'm just so mature.

I just noticed that they have weird ears. Kinda pointy. Huh.

"You're coming with us, stranger. We shall take you to the Last Homely House and let Lord Aragorn decide your fate." Fate, nothing. Take that oversized toothpick out of my face before I stick you with it!

Oops. Did I say that out loud? I did, didn't I?

"Haelindel, bind its hands and set it behind you."

"Why the hell are you so hostile anyway? Someone steal your Brad Pitt plushie?" This man looks just gay enough to have one, too.

"What is a...never mind." Please let him have forgotten about the whole delusion that there's a Homely House in the middle of Virginia, please, please, please…And the whole tying up thing. That too.

"Haelindel," he indicates to me with a tilt of his head.

Or not.

I protest, trying to get Haylandfill or whatever to stop tying me up. Hah! Landed a kick right on his knee!

I do karate. Not that I'm amazing, I'm not. Of course I won't really hurt anybody; I don't exactly feel like being sued for bodily harm on top of all this junk. But right now those lessons are paying off…

A big manly-man lays me out with one swipe.

I repeat: or not.

…

"You know, nowadays people give you a sandwich if they find you all alone." I've been babbling for about fifteen minutes. On everything from the Wall Street Journal, to the best taco place in town, to the chances that we'll get snow. Honestly, I don't think these guys have half a clue of most of what I'm talking about. Which is just fine with me; the more I bug them, the better my day gets. Not that there's much to get better on so far.

Bean-man (yes, he's about one step away from a green polyester cape) rolls his eyes. "Gag her before we are all turned insane by this twaddle." I seriously snort at that. Nobody's used that word since the Revolutionary War. Of course, a piece of material stops me mid-snort.

Yes, I'm tied up and am walking behind Hoilindrools. Yes, I got captured. YES, I should've remembered that my mouth will get me in trouble. Stop gloating.

They really do have pointy...pointy ears? As in, elves? As in- oh damn! _Middle-Earth_?! I was just joking about what I said earlier!

You know, sometimes I can be extremely slow to catch on.

I'm beginning to question both my boyfriend's sense of humor and my sanity.

So far, neither are looking too good.

**And why would Aragorn be in Rivendell, anyway?**


	7. Elladan's POV

Wow! Almost five months since I updated! That's unacceptable. Before you all throw me to the lions, let me explain myself. My Beta ran off and left me. I have not gotten any replies to my frantic messages; and so I was left alone and Beta-less. Confused, I stumbled, lost, through pages and pages of Betas before learning that the only ones who would like this story at all...were taking a hiatus from Beta-reading. -- So I turned to my faithful readers. Many thanks to Glitterpaw of Thunderclan for Beta-reading this chapter for me! Without her, there would be no more NRFH! (Well, except for what's stored in my computer files)

Lady Ambreanna: I'm sorry for messaging you so out of the blue like that. If you still could, I'd be most grateful if you would at least read and tell me what you think of a new Lotr drama I'm attempting. I have quite a few new stories that need some guidance, so I thought that I would distribute them evenly among the fanfiction site. If you'd rather remain an advice-giving reader, though, that's great! Because it means you're still reading! Kohlrabi? Is it a turnip or a cabbage? : )

ladykind: Well, I'm sorry about your broken ribs, but I'm not sorry that you like this story! And look! Look! I'm updating! :)

Glitterpaw of Thunderclan: Cool name, by the way. Yes, I was talking about a Threstral. I'm really enjoying writing this. Thanks so much! D

Helgapuff of Hegglepegglepuff: I will try to put some Gay Poetic Concience in my story. Any ideas where? Omg, I screamed when you told me somebody had printed off NRFH! lol ; )

Alix-Jesusfreak: I'm glad this is your kind of humor. So happy you found this story again! : )

Paths Crossing: Thanks for reviewing! :D

the-dolphins-way: So sorry for the loooong wait. It wasn't planned, and I was biting my nails hoping for a Beta reply but no such luck. My kitty muse thanks you; Kyon-kyon's decided to stop being a bitch and give me some ideas. Finally! (I think your review did it.) ;)

Dark Eco Angel: I've missed hearing your opinions...:( I suppose Lotr isn't a very guy-friendly fanfiction-verse, but still...there are some really good actions fics out there. Hn. I guess you're right, we will never know. :D

We stand victorious: I enjoyed the fics you recommended very much. They gave me some good inspiration.

_Many thanks to Hello Anyone There, Dark Morwen 863, and Telcontar Rulz and anybody else I've forgotten._

..

**ELLADAN'S POV.**

We've been at this stupid story for three days. No, I correct myself: we've been at each other's _throats_ for three days (Eowyn literally tried to jump Elrohir and throttle him); we only found the story several hours ago.

But seriously, this place is an appalling mess. There's blankets, bedrolls, pillows, dresses, weapons, Pippin's food leftovers, Elrohir's mirror, Legolas' collection of gold-handled hairbrushes, and a big sign saying 'What's a hairbrush?' belonging to Aragorn. In other words, it's a mess.

But apparently the only people who care are the ones who are going to have to clear it up once everyone's left for their respective countries: me, and Elrohir.

Scratch that, just me. Elrohir's busy trashing yet another room as he and Legolas have a sparring contest to see who's lightest on their feet. If you ask me, they're both pretty damned heavy.

Okay, I guess it wasn't that funny.

And maybe Aragorn doesn't have a sign. But he will once I give it to him.

Gimli puffs at his pipe and shakes his head. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Merry turns to him. "Pipeweed? Where did you get pipeweed?" The dwarf looks shiftily at me; I shake my head violently and mouth, 'No!' Unfortunately, I think Merry saw me. Yep. He did.

The hobbit turns and squints at me, trying to figure out if I'm lying.

Valar, he looks hilarious when he squints. No. Mustn't laugh. Mustn't laugh. Mustn't…

Need a distraction. Quick.

"Silence, please," I hold up a shaking hand. "If we are to continue with anymore of this…this…"

"Pure and utter torture which is worse than going through all of Mordor? WITH Gollum?" Sam offers. I'm staring bug-eyed at him. No offense Sam, but you scare me. "Umm, yes. Anyway, I insist that someone else continue this cursed fanfiction."

Elrohir, I'm looking at you. Wake up.

"Oho, no." Elrohir puts his hands up. "I will not. Not for all the horses in Rivendell."

That reminds me about something from the movie. Apparently it reminds Legolas also. "Actually, that's Arwen's racket." He sniggers. She just gazes at him, confused. I can't wait to see her reaction to this.

"You know, how you stole Glorfindel's role in the movie- and his horse. I hear that poor elf still twitches whenever he hears Gandalf's name. Or yours." The glare Arwen gives him is cold enough to freeze Orodruin over- and that's saying a lot, believe me.

Meanwhile, I'm still trying to convince my dear, wonderful, understanding twin to take over narrating.

"No!"

Bloody bastard. I swear he's adopted.

"But someone has to take over or I'll never be sane again!" Not that he cares, but sympathy always gets the crowd on your side.

"NO!"

"But-"

"NO!!"

I lean over and whisper in his ear. Suddenly Elrohir turns deathly white- I knew he'd give in- and meekly takes the book.

"What made him change his mind?" Eowyn wonders. Wouldn't she like to know. Mwa ha ha ha.

My brother gives her a look of utter despair. "Blackmail from an ignorant child's past."

Having a good memory comes in so handy at times like these.

He gulps and peers at the page. Do I feel any remorse? Any guilt? Actually, yes I do. I wish I'd thought of this sooner. I'd never have had to read the damned thing in the first place.

_Darkness swirled about her, it seemed as though she was floating on the very mists of time themselves. "Hello?" she whispered, the word echoing loudly around her. "Child, your time is not yet come. Walk towards the light. Follow your heart. And never, never give up…" _

_Suddenly she knew, instinctively, that she was in Middle-Earth. The ground felt so hard. Wait, was there someone there?_

"So she can tell her surroundings just by the mud?"

Aragorn snorts into his sleeve. Elrohir glares at me.

"_Maiden? Fair maiden, are you well?" asked a lovely voice, almost musickul in characteristic. "Fair maiden?"_

"Like I'd ever be that redundant!" Legolas' tone is the epitome of sarcastic.

Elrohir gapes at the page. "She can spell characteristic, but not musical?" You'd be surprised what else she can do, brother o' mine.

Merry shrugs. "You know, dumb blonde…"

Eowyn glares at him, while Faramir rushes to assure her that the hobbit's not talking about her. Okay, time to shut up Merry.

He continues on, in ignorance, "I mean, we don't KNOW Warriorgrl-blah-blah-blah's real hair color and all that, but I think it's pretty obvious that she's a…"

If Merry knew the full meaning of what he just said, he'd eat ten bars of soap. Everybody knows that, but still, Aragorn's giving me funny looks.

"Where did a _hobbit_ of the _Shire_ learn such crude remarks?" Another funny look.

I cough inadvertently and try to look as innocent as possible. It's not working. I wonder what gave me away?

"_She tried so hard to open her eyes and see the owner of that wondreous voice."_

"Don't strain yourself," Sam mutters darkly.

_Finally, her eyes fluttered open to reveal two lovely golden orbs peering down at her…she, with her artistic eye, studied the perfect lines and coutures of his face._

"She studied the fashion of his face?" Faramir gets that mischevious look in his eye again. "Oh my, yes, Legolas, your cheekbones quite remind me of the common Rohirric soldier's helmet. And your ears are simply _divine_! I must create an entire _wardrobe_ to celebrate them!"

Pippin, a quill tucked behind his ear and a notepad in his hand, walks up beside Faramir and scrutinizes Legolas' eyes. "Hmm…golden orbs…Faramir, I believe something is dreadfully wrong with our fashion pri…prom…" he stumbles.

"Protégé!" I stage-whisper.

"Yeah, that."

Legolas' _divine_ ears are turing a brilliant red; Pippin and Faramir had better watch out, they've already gotten in trouble and I'm pretty sure Eowyn wouldn't like it if Legolas managed to amputate Faramir's-

Well, you get the idea.

So…yeah. That was awkward.

_As her gaze slid to his ears, the breath caught in that perfectly sculptured throat. He was an elf! _

_Leggolas?_

"So…whose throat did the breath catch in?" Eowyn raises her eyebrow. "Because technically, she either insulted herself or Legolas."

Pippin starts to peer at Legolas' neck, before the elf snaps at him. "Watch it!" Pippin scurries to hide behind a lamppost, his furry feet sticking out both ends.

"Oh yeah, like somebody would see a random handsome elf and immediately think: Legolas," My brother grumbles.

"I agree, it's sickening." I nod in sympathy.

"And it's not even as if Leggy dear is the best specimen, either."

"Too true. You, my brother, and I are by far more interesting and alluring- Ow!" Arwen smacks the back of my head. My sister can be so cruel sometimes.

_LEGGOLAS!! Cryseina was in heaven! This was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her! She had arrived in Middle-Earth and was immediately found by her one twue love, who would sweep her off her feet and save her from her sorrow! _

_Suddenly, her mood dampened. All this was great unless…unless all this was just all a dream._

Here we go, ladies and gentlemen, the title of 'Most Stupid Sentence of the Year' is once again awarded to _WarriorgrlxluvsxLeggolas_ for the two hundred and sixtieth time in a row.

_What if she woke up and the love of her life was gone?_

A happy day for Legolas?

_Leggolas leaned down towards her, the dappling sunlight making his hair shine golden. His face became troubled as he sensed my pain. "Maiden? Fair maiden? Are you well, fair maiden?"_

Yugh. And blond's overrated anyway. I have mentioned that before, haven't I?

Legolas kicks the table leg angrily. "Enough with the fair maiden already!"

_Leggolas seemed to inhale my worry, hurt and pain flashing across his handsome face. Cryseina realized with a jolt that every morbid thought she had hurt the elf even more. For his sake, she blinked her tears away and thought of happy things._

"Like rainbows and unicorns and BIG PINK FLUFFY BUNNIES! BUNNIES!! MWAHAHAHA! BUNNIES!!" Pippin stands on a bookcase, laughing madly, before jumping down and doing a crazy little dancing singing "Bunnies, bunnies, bunny bunny bunny bunny…"

Uuhh…okay. Scary.

Arwen rushes over to the traumatized hobbit and puts her arms around him. Murmuring soothing words, she rocks him like a little child while he cries hysterically and keeps mumbling, asking her to take away the bad painter lady. My sister looks beseechingly at the rest of us. "He needs some time away from The Book."

"As do we all," Gimli agrees.

"Bunny, bunny, bunny…" Pippin whispers. Arwen shushes him, and assures him that the bunnies were all killed by the evil ducks of the universe. For some reason, that actually cheers him up.

You know, my sister may be a bossy brat sometimes, but she's caring. In fact, Arwen is one of the most kind and sensitive elves I know.

I, on the other hand, am most decidedly not sensitive. How do I know? Right now all I'm thinking about is winning that bet with Elrohir. Two hobbits in one chapter- looking good.

Of course, I can't resist letting the others-not the hobbits, of course- into our little bet. Which considerably raises the stakes. Now the loser (or losers) has to muck out the horses' stalls. And believe me, Rivendell has a LOT of horses. Fun.

"Ahem." Elrohir raises his eyebrows over The Book- looking disturbingly like our Ada. "There are only a few paragraphs left in this chapter AND I WOULD LIKE TO GET THEM OVER WITH!!"

Shocked silence.

A cricket chirps but Aragorn hastily silences it with his foot. Poor bugger.

"Thank you..."

_As Leggolas helped her to sit up, she suddenly clutched her head as pain racked her skull mercilessly._

_"You're not well, Lady...?"_

_"Cryseina" she supplied._

_"Cryseina...beautiful name...it sounds Elvish..." he mused, his beautiful voice sending shivers down her spine. Then my elf snapped back to reality. "But you're still not well. And what is a lady doing out in the middle of the woods alone? And unarmed?"_

Change in tense! Change in tense! Aaaaargh!

And she's probably waiting for you, elfie.

_Cryseina suddenly remembered something from all the Legomances she had read. So she reached into her backpack-_

"Which just somehow appeared out of nowhere," Arwen mocks from her position on the ground. Elrohir scowls.

_SHE REACHED INTO HER BACKPACK and pulled out a very long, very heavy sword. It was very old- and very beautiful- with Elvish ruins running down the sides. It was deadly sharp, and perfectly balanced, and as she lifted it, she knew that Cryseina could use it in whatever battles her Leggy-kins had in store for her. _

"Wow, look," Elrohir interrupts himself. My brother is such a hypocrite."Two paragraphs and already she has a pet name for you!"

"Just wait until she meets you!" Legolas shoots back. That serves to shut my brother up. Thank Illuvatar.

_"I'm fine," she said- and it was true, the pain had left. Perhaps this was a magical healing sword. But she had no time to pandor that- _"That's PONDER that!"- _for she knew not what dangers lay beyond._

Somebody makes a rude noise. No, it is not me. It isn't. Really.

But if this keeps up, I'm gonna win that bet. Now we just need Sam to crack.

Elladan: 2

My soon-to-be-shit-shovelling brother: 0

* * *

I'm hoping my late update won't put anybody off reading this fic. And for those of you who follow NRFH but don't review...now could be a good time to start. -wink wink-


	8. Jas' POV 2

I don't normally update so quickly, but it just so happened that I had already written this chapter and the Beta-workshop was quick in getting back to me. Because of a request from ladykind, I have updated on her birthday! Everybody wish ladykind a happy birthday! The next chapter (a surprise guest, even for those of you who read it the first time) has only been partially written and so will take an undetermined amount of time. But I promise to hurry up!

ladykind: Birthday update for you! Yes, everywhere I walk is now sacred ground. lol ;) And whaddaya know? Jas again!

Alix-Jesusfreak: Thanks for reviewing my other stories, too! I really enjoyed writing 'She', it was a challenge. Yes, that's one of my favorite parts, too. : )

Kay: Thank you. I'm having lots of fun writing this. :)

Lady Ambreanna: Yes, but the chipmunks threatened me with painful death by nuts if I included them in this story. Apparently it's too crazy for them...Hn. Thanks! :D

Telcontar Rulz: Oh yes. I plan on torturing Legolas a LOT in the chapters to come. Somebody suggested that I write a sex scene with him and the Sue, and after reading Leggy-dear attempts to commit suicide. Me likey. XD

DipDab500: Thanks for the review! I still laugh sometimes when I reread it. It's nice to know I'm making people all over the world snort at their computer screens. : )

Paths Crossing: You're the only person to feel sorry for the cricket. Go you! Actually, I have a feeling Sam may hold out for a while... ; )

_Hello Anyone There, where are you?? And many thanks to everyone else who added this (or any other) story in any way, shape, or form. KyonKyon is having a field day and giving me all sorts of ideas! _

IMPORTANT QUESTION: Sorry to take so long before the chapter, but I'm working on a journal fic for Elrohir and fanfiction dot net does not have the strikethrough option. What would make the most sense to you as a reader that would show he has crossed out some of what he's written?

..

**JAS' POV.**

Geez, is it just me, or are elves way more grumpy than Peter Jackson made out? Seriously, I'm thinking some of these guys haven't laughed in over a millennium. Which, come to think of it, is probably the case. It's still rather unnerving that someone who looks only a few years older than me is undoubtedly a few centuries older.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, it's been two days since I arrived here. Yippee. Two days of being guarded, hands tied, and no more attention than a waffle iron in a tree.

And weird glances. Can't forget the weird glances.

It's called jeans, elf. J-E-A-N-S. That does not make me some kind of alien freak. Although I'm starting to feel like one.

I mean, I can understand why the elves would suspect a strange, foreign traveler in their lands. They've had a tough couple of years, what with the Ring and all. But still, I've _told _them that I mean no harm, that I'm obviously not dangerous, and that I'd like to interview Celeborn for the Australian travel magazine I'm writing for, so why don't they let me light a campfire and make some smores? Maybe even sign them up for a subscription.

Yes, I'm grumpy. You really had to ask?

I wonder who Cryseina was trying to contact, instead of me. I wonder if she sent that story to Mid- here yet. I wonder why she needed help. I wonder if that bloody elf will put my CD player down, already. I wonder if that patch of grass is really as slippery as it looks. I wonder if I'll get out of this ali-

Ouch! Damn patch of grass.

At least now I know that those elves can laugh. They're laughing at ME, sitting on my butt in the mud. Every single, last one of them. Although several elves look like their faces had to crack in order to smile. Oh joy. I'm probably responsible for them having to get plastic surgery to get their faces back to normal.

Not that anything about my life right now is normal.

And why the heck does it take so long to get anywhere in this place?

...

Ye gads, is Rivendell beautiful. I mean, like literally, I look at it and I stop breathing.

Although that could have been because I get hit in the back by Hamlindreel-thingy...whatever. Still can't remember his name.

"Keep moving, human." Oh, wow. I've been upgraded from 'it' to 'human'. Whoo hoo. See my happy dance.

Didn't you see my happy dance? You missed it? Too bad. It was pretty spectacular, too.

"Will you get off your high horse for one teensy, weensy minute? I'm trying to appreciate all this, and if this is how you treat all your guests, then I'm not surprised that this is the Last Homely House! There aren't enough polite elves to go around!"

Okay, now he's looking at me like I've grown three heads. "I am on no horse, human." he says slowly, like talking to a toddler.

There we go with the human thing again. Hey! That hurt! Fine, I'll keep moving, you ELVISH FREAK OF NATURE.

Seriously, I'm wondering if Bean-man can read minds. He's glaring at me like I said that out loud. Or maybe my vomiting imitation did it. Well, I never said I was good at theatre.

Hoo boy, we're going in.

Just my luck, I trip on the second to last step, and bonk my chin on the top step. Ouch. Yep, that's going to leave a mark.

No I didn't mean the bruise. I was talking about the blood dripping onto my shirt.

Aren't elves supposed to have lightening quick reflexes or something? In all the fanfictions I've read, Legolas (or another testosterone-filled hero) always catches the girl right before she falls. So the only way they could have missed me was...

If they did it on purpose.

I HATE MY LIFE.

Someone just pulls my arm and yanks me up like I'm blocking these poor elves from getting into Ainur or something. After bumbling through the courtyard and into a building we start going through these really cool carved halls. It's amazing. I'd love to take pictures of this and send them back to Benny, my best friend who's majoring in architecture.

I can hear a couple of the guards discussing what 'weensy' could possibly mean. I spot Bean-man trying not to laugh when they suggest a method of dancing. How does weensy sound like a dance. It's like, 'Hey! Let's go to that new club and do the Weensy!'

Actually sounds kind of wrong, if you ask me.

I obviously have a problem with spacing out. Or maybe I'm just too introverted and narcissistic. But still, I space out far too often, because I never noticed another elf come up and join us. He's talking to Bean-man now- well, more like breathing. I strain to listen. Damn Elvish sensitivity. No. Wait. Damn marble statues. I just walked into one while trying to eavesdrop.

"A strange girl?...near Lothlorien..connected to this one here?" No, really, I'm sure it's just the hot season for touring Middle Earth this time of year.

"She threw herself at...and claimed to be a 'chosen one'...overly beautiful..."

"Can't be connected with this one...strange girl...definitely not beautiful..." Well, WHO ASKED YOU?! Jeez, it's not like I'm competing for a modeling contract but I'm not half bad!

...Right?

"Has been another sighting...Mirkwood..."

"Legolas' SISTER?" I think everybody heard you on that one, oh Great Polyester-Cape-Deprived-Chosen-One. Said Chosen One turns, glares at his men- elves, and huddles closer to...to...to...the really _hot_ elf who's staring at me. Hiya, sweet cheeks.

"Glorfindel..." Glorfindel? Twice-born Balrog slayer? Scary elf to be avoided at all costs.

Our little party keeps moving down these twisting corridors. If the elves ever were invaded, they wouldn't need to fight. The enemy would just get lost and starve to death.

Starve. I'm hungry.

I slow down a bit to wait for the elf who has my backpack. He's also been rifling through it. I see chocolate smears around your mouth, my good elf. "Can I have a snack? Some food? Anything?" I sound so desperate. But I'm on a growth spurt. Really.

He just glances at the pack. "I am not permitted to grant the prisoner any sort of personal items."

"Is that a no?"

He looks straight ahead, not even deigning to give my puppy dog eyes another glance.

"Thought so." I whimper a bit to enhance begging effect. His left eyes twitches and his nostrils dilate. He's cracking.

"Pleeeease?" This time he makes the mistake of looking at me for a split second, and I put all my years of practice and effort into this one moment and blink sadly.

He sighs. "Perhaps I could..."

I'm starting to think victory when he becomes very aware of Bean-man standing right behind him. "...cease consorting with the prisoner?" I can just see Bean-man doing a mom on us, saying in a very prim voice, 'Now, are you asking me or telling me?' I have to fight the urge to point a finger at the guard and say, 'He stole the cookies!'

No, not THAT finger! You. Mind. Gutter. Out. Now.

* * *

I wonder if anyone can guess the first guest point of view! I've decided to incorporate a few as they make it more clear what's going on in other places in Middle-earth at the time. Please review. Reviews and PMs feed my muse and inspire me to write faster and better.

KyonKyon promises to send you all virtual cat treats if you do...


	9. Thranduil's POV

The first cameo appearance!!! I would like to point out that Thranduil will not be getting another chapter. This is a one-off appearance, so enjoy it. lol This chapter gives a little heads up on what's to come with our Mary-Sues. Sorry for the delay, but my creative spark shorted for a while.

We stand victorious: I didn't update quick this time...lol :P

Paths Crossing: Haha, a cricket attacking Aragorn would be funny. One of my fav chaps also. :)

Silvara713: Yeah, he is an idiot. lol :D

Telcontar Rulz: Thank you for your advice. You were the only person to help with that. Once I get enough done, I'll start publishing it. lol : )

Dark Morwen 863: Thanks for the compliment! ^^ I hope you like this one as well. (and more nicknames for The Book) : P

ladykind: Hmm...even an Elvish arrow? lol glad I could help! : )

Lady Ambreanna: You were bound to be correct on one count lol. Elrond would be funny, since he's in the Grey Havens.

Helgapuff of Hegglepegglepuff: Wow. Thank you. And you're not ugly, only Mary-Sues are ugly. Well...if you promise to take it out every Friday, I might let you two date. ; ) And I am SO writing in your LeggySue sex scene. :D

Hello Anyone There: Yeah, I thought about putting more in. I will try, but it sometimes takes away from the emotion-based humor. Definately including illustrations. MWHAHAHA! XD

Ssain: Oddly enough, it's easier for me to write in a hyper mood when I'm actually depressed or thoughtful. Hm. lol Thank you. :)

MeldaTavar: Thanks! I have fun writing it. ^^

...

**THRANDUIL'S POV.**

"Legolas' sister."

Uh-oh.

"You know dear, it might be my old age but I was of the influence that Legolas had seven brothers. And no sisters. And I believe that I would know, seeing as I was the one who had to go through a grand total of sixty-three hours of labor."

Does she have to do this _now?_

"So I must ask you, when did Legolas acquire a sister?"

You have no idea how demeaning it is to be glared at like that. No idea whatsoever.

Nanethiel, my lovely, gracious, and serene wife is seated across from me in the throne room, idly twirling the carved handle of a dagger and providing centuries of gossip for the hundred or so eyes watching us. Me. The fact that I'm the King of Mirkwood has no precedence in my uncontrollable urge to throttle that Glorfindel until his face turns a lovely violet-red.

He _had_ to show up here, on our wedding anniversary, babbling about 'Mary-Sues', Legolas' supposed sister, and the end of the world. Honestly, those kind of jokes get very old, very quickly.

Especially when you're likely to pay for it with your life. Or your…ability to procreate.

Not that I'd mind not having a hormone-crazy, pregnant wife. But I'm just saying.

Nanethiel is still waiting for an answer, and I need to acquire one within the minute or the whole of Mirkwood will believe that I cheated with some porcelain spawn of Sauron- according to Glorfindel's description. He couldn't have barged in _after _we opened the wine? Maybe she'd be more accepting then.

Anessen's trying not to laugh. Damn him. Didn't even mean for that little bugger to happen.

"He doesn't." It comes out as more of a question. A squeaky question.

Squeaky questions do not encourage witnessing elves to support their king. Squeaky questions do not sound assertive in front of said king's wife. And most importantly, squeaky questions are liable to send you into uncontrollable coughing fits.

Several minutes later, I've got my breath back and am still trying to convince Nanethiel to put the sharp dagger DOWN.

Or into a hand-woven tapestry. That's fine. Never liked Gondorian art much, anyways.

Glorfindel eyes my wife nervously before speaking again. "Um…your Majesty, what about…her?" He gestures to the blonde-haired woman behind him. Her mouth is open so wide that she could catch flies. Not that there are any in my halls. Small bird species, perhaps? But still…she is lovely. The spitting image of Legolas, come to think of it.

Two of my guards are drooling.

She steps daintily (clumsily) forward and begins to address my subjects. "I am Bella Doronova Methulinael Jade and I am here to claim my rightful place on these thrones."

"Well, that's nice," I say. She really is a very pretty elleth. In fact, I think she has my nose.

"Nice? No, it's not nice, it's terrible!" Glorfindel hisses. Maybe he's jealous. His hair does look a bit metallic against her flaxen tresses. That must be it. He and my wife are the only elves in this room who are so prejudiced against Bulla Moroscova Jathsneeziel Dode because they're jealous. And what a charming name she has, too.

"Of course it's nice, Glorfindel. It's important to reunite with one's family every so often," I reply graciously. Nanethiel's hand twitches towards the mutilated tapestry.

"She's a MARY-SUE!" He yells.

"Well, ignoring the fact that I've never heard it, no wonder I've always liked the name Mary," I pause as something flashes through my brain. "…I have?"

The girl glows, and for a moment, I almost think that she has a pair of buckteeth before the glow disappears. And she doesn't. And I don't.

Nanethiel just slouches (remains poised) the whole time. Glorfindel tries to sway me again.

"This girl is an imposter, your Majesty. Resist her dark magic, before-" Bulla interrupts his little speech- what was it about again?- by meekly stepping forward and opening her beautiful mouth (by grabbing hold of his collar and throwing him down the steps). But before she can speak…

"_Girl?!" _Nanethiel explodes (questions regally). "You cheated on me with a _mortal_?"

Erm…

"I am no mere mortal!" Bulla declares bravely (argues pigheadedly), and the slight glow that just developed dies down. "My mother was a Maia, one of the seven handmaidens to Varda!"

What?

Who?

She was?

Wait a moment, she's glowing again.

Suddenly, she's not quite as lovely/dainty/pretty/charming/beautiful/brave as I thought before. "There are no seven handmaidens mentioned in the tales of Valinor," I glare at the female who is looking more and more like a barmaid every second. "You speak falsely."

A barmaid with a bad dye job.

And buckteeth! I knew it!

After sentencing the girl to immediate execution for attempting to usurp the throne, I send a couple of elves to retrieve Glorfindel. He looks dazed, but forgiving- after all, he sort of has to be. Being King does have some perks, you know.

Nanethiel snuggles up against me while he explains in more detail the origin, goals, and weak points of 'Mary-Sues'.

"…according to the Dunedain who captured her, Melody was…"

My wife's hand creeps across my back.

"…created by girls wishing to transport themselves here…"

She slips it under my shirt.

"…greatest evil encountered from a foreign source…"

And presses her cold, cold fingers against the small of my back.

"AIIIII!" Glorfindel starts at my sudden outburst. "Your Majesty, is anything wrong?"

No, I just scream because I think it's _fun _and _helpful_ and very, very _kingly. _

"It is of no importance, Glorfindel. Please continue," I sit back and think that, whatever Legolas is doing right now, he is undoubtedly having an easier time of it than I am.

**And somewhere in Rivendell, far, far away, Legolas was screaming at the top of his lungs while Pippin and Faramir narrated the premature love scene in the Deadly Fanfiction Book of Doom.**

Topless Leggys to whoever picked up on both of the subtle name jokes! -pictures topless Legolas- O.o

* * *


	10. Eowyn's POV

It's been half a year. Probably more. I can't believe it. Have I really changed that much?

My first excuse for no writing: I hated trying to rewrite this chapter, and eventually just gave up because of #2.

I started college, my dad left us, my first real love came and went, and among other innumerable shit my sense of humor just died. Oh, the cynical, sarcastic, raunchy sense is still there. That blossomed and grew. But the pure, enjoyable, hyper humor I needed to write disappeared. I still don't really have it back. But I feel guilty for being a runaway author AGAIN, so there you are. Also, my computer crashed several times and it took me forever to get my files. I don't have Word anymore, so writing huge pieces (such as this) is a royal pain in the arse. *complain complain*

I will keep up with this once the semester's over, I just don't know how quickly.

On the bright side, I've been writing a lot of poems, and am going to have five of them published in the school mag soon. Oddly enough, none of them are humerous...blech.

Kyon-kyon the kitty muse is malnourished. I gave him up for a poem-spirit. His name's Bob.

Short, and not that funny, but hey. Hope it's something. My apology (in the form of a long, tasty chapter) will come eventually.

**EOWYN'S POV.**

(A/N: Uh-oh, Eowyn's point of view. I have a feeling she doesn't like Cryseina too much.)

I hate this girl.

(A/N: See what I mean?)

I mean I HATE this little upstart. So much that I want to discover fifty new ways of dissecting a person's heart with a blunt spoon. I would say brains, but it appears she doesn't have any.

Why are you looking at me like that? Hello, Shield Maiden, we have a tendency to be violent. That's why Faramir keeps asking me not to...

Ahem.

Unfortunately, another trait one develops in training as a Shield Maiden, is the ability- no, the CURSE of being able to listen and distinguish between noises in my surroundings even when trying DESPERATELY to tune them out. So desperately, in fact, that I've been sitting here for the better part of an hour with two pillows pressed against my ears. And nobody's noticed.

Goes to show just how crazy those men all are.

What sound could I possibly be trying to obliterate? Believe me, Elrohir's girly voice is definitely something to fear.

_As Ishe stood, Rosa saw, for the first time, the true beauty of the forest she was standing in. Gold sunlight filtered through emerald leaves, speckling the ground with shadowed patterns of tales not told, and lives not lived._

I growl quietly. When I get through with her, she's going to wish she never lived to tell this tale.

Aragorn scoffs at the attempted alliteration.

"Personally, I couldn't tell there was any attempt at all ," Legolas replies smartly. "I thought it was more of a horrid take on dactyl tetrameter."

"Dactyl tetrameter with a monosyllabic foot in between! How could you have failed to notice?" With a rather self-satisfied look on his face, Gimli jumps into what is quickly becoming a very out of character conversation for all involved.

Arwen spreads her hands.

"Actually, I'd say this all depends on the speaker's verbal interpretation."

"If anything it was a simple metaphor linking the aesthetically pleasing positioning of the shadows to the expected adventures she will have!"

"But if so, then how could one overlook the fact that the patterns were arbitrarily made by the wind? Would that not then make for a more engaging psychological discovery into the subconscious of the statement?"

I feel a dark presence growing in this room.

Legolas stubbornly insists on the dactyl tetrameter, threatening Sam and Elladan with disallowed entry into the kitchens if they contest his point again.

Faramir speaks out, instructively and deliberately.

"I believe that this statement is nothing more than a simple observation of a world in which this unfortunate has been cast, alone and helpless, with nothing more than a leaf-promise from Eru of things to come."

I gape at my husband for a moment before dragging him outside and smacking him upside the head. Has everybody fallen under some evil spell?! He takes a few minutes to recover, before coming in with me and helping to set everybody's psyche aright by means of a pan of particularly refreshingly cold water.

Needless to say, nobody has any idea why they were acting like that.

Of course.

Elrohir, visibly shaken, and very wary of whatever literary terms he might spout, mercifully forgets to narrate the Book as he was formerly.

_The bark of the trees was smooth as oil over silk, and the squirrels' nuts were plentiful and large._

Not a few guffaws on this one.

_The frogs jumped spryly- (WarriorgrlxluvsxLeggolas: WHATEV! Go to Appendix A if you _want_ more on that stupid forest! __–blows kisses-)_

_He and her were strolling gayly- _chuckle quickly muffled by a member of the pillow army- _towards Rievndelly, talking about the world, and her hair, and her losses, and her unfortunate days when she hadturnedemoandstillneededtoberescuedfromhersuicidaltendencies when suddenly they heard a groan._

"_Hellpp…meee…"_

Sweet Eru, please let it be an ambush just chock full of orcs with ragged blades that are infected with a multitude of pathogenic bacteria. Please. I'm begging you.

_Turning around, Rose gasped delicately, in shock. Oh no! Jas! Her quick mind realized that she must have been in the car accident too and gotten teleported mysteriously to Middle-Earth also! She was the bane of her existential existence, her nemisis, my arch-enemy, her-_

I nod, "Sounds like somebody I would like to meet." But existential doesn't-

"That ruthless rapist of writing needs to look up the meanings of a few words," remarks Faramir. I have to smile. Trust my husband to always be of the same mind as me. We're so perfect for each other; I love the way he rubs his chin absentmindedly when-

Ahem. You did not hear that.

Elrohir scans the page. "Well...it seems the rest of this is all about Jas and how she -_gasp-_ doesn't believe in Middle Earth and -_gasp-_ isn't in love with Legolas!"

This last part is said in a high, squeaky, Cryseina-kind-of voice again. OUCH.

"Damn you, Elrohir!" I mutter.

"Did you have to say it like that?" Aragorn wiggles a finger in his ear. "That sickeningly sweet, sugary coated, voice is worse than hearing ghosts in your dreams! I swear you sound just like her!"

"Oh I feel so wanted, I think I'll just go into that corner and develop an eating disorder," Elrohir says sarcastically. Pippin looks scandalized.

"You wouldn't! You _can't_!"

"And why not?"

"Because...because...well it's obvious, because..." Pippin fumbles for an answer, unbelieving that such a thing even needs explaining.

"Because then you would miss out on all the food!" Merry interjects wisely. Pippin nods. "Yeah, and you'd be _hungry_ too!"

I think I just saw Elrohir slap his forehead, but I'm not sure. I was too busy watching Elladan banging his head into the wall to get a proper look.

…

"That sounded NOTHING like me!"

"_A DAMsel in disTRESS! We must help her!"_

"That was even worse!"

"_A damSEL in distress! We must HELP her!"_

"That sounded more like Rosa than anything else!" Legolas has taken real offense this time.

"And how would you know what she sounds like?" Arwen raises her eyebrow.

Pippin gets a maniacal look in his eye. "He has dreeeeaaaams!" the hobbit waves his arms in a wizardly manner.

"Legolas, you dream about Rosa! Really? You've only just met!" Merry punches Legolas in the shoulder. Of course, he has to stand on his chair to do so, but this only adds to the hilarity.

Elladan gets up and stands over Legolas, concerned. "Perhaps I should check for a fever. That sort of symptom could only mean that Legolas is madly in love with her. Ach, so sweet! Yet so tragic! For-" Another wave of ice water rinses away the elf's prose.

What took you so damn long, Gimli?

Elrohir merely huffs and complains that he can't please everybody with his artistic impressions.

Merry grumbles.

"You can't please anybody with impressions of _her_."

Recognizing a scapegoat when it's presented to him trussed and ready for slaughter, Elrohir cheerfully tosses the Book of Doom at the hobbit. "Okay, Mister-I'm-So-Smart-I-Killed-The-Nazgul, let's see if you can brave this!"

Technically, Merry wounded the Witch-King and I killed him, but we have other problems besides elves forgetting their history lessons.

Such as my favorite hobbit running around the room screaming; Faramir's eye beginning to twitch violently; Aragorn and Gimli sharpening their respective weapons, each muttering something about 'Self-protection from that hideous piece of devilry'; and Legolas curled up on the couch in the fetal position, wailing that he does not love that trollop of trials and thesauruses .

Me? Oh, nothing happened with me...

Nothing at all...


End file.
